


Poker Night (Winner Takes All)

by LibidineTertius



Series: What You Want [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (Limited), (No kidding...), Consensual Non-Consent, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Face-Fucking, Fisting, Gangbang, M/M, Safe Sane and Consensual, Smut, Strip Poker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-08 00:58:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19860931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibidineTertius/pseuds/LibidineTertius
Summary: The boys can't even pretend that Steve isn't going to end up on the bottom of the pile, but it doesn't mean they can't have fun with it.





	Poker Night (Winner Takes All)

**Author's Note:**

> I tend to write my Avengers kinky. If you want more information about how consensual non-consent is used in this story, please check the end notes. Tags exist for a reason, y'all.

“I don’t know why we’re even pretending,” Clint said, rapidly flicking cards across the table like a professional casino dealer. Tony would never tell the guy, but he loved watching Barton do his carny schtick. It was weird, but impressive. “Strip poker, yay, but we all know Steve is going to blow it, despite the fact that he has… enhanced cognitive whatsit.”

Steve looked up at the ceiling, trying too hard to look innocent. None of them really bought the _Shucks, I’m just a good boy from the 40’s_ act anymore. He tried really hard, then looked around the table at their knowing expressions, and shrugged. “So, change up the rules. Winner discards a piece of clothes.”

Tony grinned at the shock on their faces. Steve might be the youngest, but he wasn’t an idiot. “Are we all agreeing not to pretend that this isn’t about sex then?” Tony asked. “Because this is 100% about sex.”

“Indeed,” Thor agreed easily. “And likely going to end with comely Steve on his knees before us.”

“Or across the table,” Tony added.

Clint looked annoyed, though. “You think I couldn’t win?”

They all stared at him. “You want a turn on the bottom?” Steve asked, sounding both surprised and a little concerned, like maybe he’d been keeping Clint (who was the toppiest top who ever topped in Tony’s experience) from having his day licking their balls and bending over for their cocks.

Clint paused. “No,” he said slowly. “But Steve isn’t the only one who can play.”

They laughed, but Clint ante-ed up anyway. “You want to try and whip our asses, you go ahead, Legolas,” Tony agreed. “No one is going to stop you.” He picked up his cards, glanced at Thor who still handled the playing cards as though they might tear in his hands like tissue paper, and resigned himself to another night of five card draw. He bet Barton played Omaha, and one of these days, the two of them needed to have a high-stakes games of their own, but they’d play nice for Thor and Steve.

Twenty minutes later, Tony was both pleased and annoyed that Steve was genuinely winning a good number of the hands _without_ Tony intentionally throwing anything. On one hand, it meant that Steve was already down to shoes and underwear, and looking entirely too smug about it. On the other hand… the hell? It wasn’t like Steve was the only one with perfect recall!

Thor was looking a little bored, and Clint had sniper-face on, so Tony decided to do what he always did: push. “I raise.” They all perked up. Tony preened, in his element. “Whoever wins this round gets to blow second place.”

Clint sat up higher and Thor got that competitive grin. Tony could have told them he was a genius. Even Steve seemed that bit more activated and Tony was pretty sure Steve had been hard since they sat down. “Alright!” Clint reached for the deck, shuffling it again without anyone asking him to, before dealing the cards. “Gentlemen, place your bets!”

Steve and Thor examined their cards. Thor winced a little. He had absolutely zero poker face. Steve bet ten chips and Tony immediately raised it to thirty. Let Barton bow out. But Barton (who was fully dressed _except_ for his pants and underwear, because he could be a very direct man), anted in without hesitation. Hard to know if he was actually that confident or if he was just bluffing that well. Steve and Thor joined them after a moment.

It climbed up and up. Thor hated to bow out of a hand. He seemed to think it unmanly. And Steve was just stubborn. Barton only traded in a single card. Tony wondered if the guy was actually so lucky or so good a cheat that he could guarantee himself second place. 

He was. Tony thought he was good with his full house, but Barton had a flush… not _quite_ as good. Second place to Tony’s first. Steve, almost naked with his four of a kind, looked disappointed. Tony just shrugged. “Guess you get me, Tinkerbell.”

“Guess I do, Shellhead,” Clint agreed. “Wanna get on your knees under the table so I can fuck your face? Or did you want to put on more of a show?”

“I want to keep playing,” Steve said, color high in his cheeks. “Unless Tony objects?”

Tony slid down carefully to his knees under the table, trying not to smack his head as he did. “Nope. You do what you gotta do.” He was face-to-face, so to speak, with Barton’s knees, but he gave them a little nudge and Clint spread his legs wide so Tony could get his mouth to more interesting places than knees. He waited until he heard Clint start to deal the cards out before he lapped a long, wet line up the inside of one strong thigh. He licked Clint slow and so high that his cheek brushed against Clint’s cock, probably scraping it faintly with his stubble.

“Jesus, Stark,” Clint grumbled. Tony only laughed and wrapped a hand around Clint’s balls, weighing them a little in his hands, playing with them. He was going to blow the archer, but nothing said he couldn’t take his time at it. After all, if Clint kept winning, Tony wouldn’t get to fuck Steve across the table, and that was no fun. 

He could just make out the sound of bets. He waited until he heard Clint inhale to speak before he sucked the first couple inches of Barton’s cock into his mouth, just to enjoy the way it made his voice squeak up. Barton had a nice cock: big enough to be a mouthful without giving Tony a sore jaw, and curved in a way that Tony swore just made him slip down the throat without Tony needing to really work at it.

“Fuck,” Barton said, and a hand settled in Tony’s hair, tugging for just a second. “Trying to focus up here. You want to slow down a little?”

Tony hummed. Nope. He was fine with this. One hand still massaging Clint’s balls, the other helping aim the man’s cock, Tony opened his mouth as wide as it could go and used the flat of his tongue to rub up and down the underside of Barton’s cock. It made him rub against the ridges of Tony’s mouth, but Tony had been a slut for years, and he could do this in his sleep. Clint’s legs clamped shut a little, trapping Tony between his thighs, but not like Tony was going to let that slow him down. He just bobbed slowly forward, letting his tongue do most of the work.

It was hard to hear the exact flow of play with his face trapped between Barton’s thighs, but Tony was only just getting the tip of Barton’s cock to the back of his throat when there was a cry of frustration. Clint lost that round. Tony pulled off his cock, careful to cover his teeth on the way. It made a wet mess on Clint’s thighs and Tony’s chin, but Tony just wiped at it with the back of a hand before popping his face halfway up onto Clint’s lap. “Who won that round?” he asked, as though he couldn’t see Steve taking his shoes off. 

“Shut up,” Clint said companionably, gripped Tony by the hair, and demanded, “Thor, you deal the cards. You’ve seen me do it.” That said, Clint shifted Tony back down. “I want you to take me all the way. Think you can do that?”

“If you think you can keep it up,” Tony agreed cheerfully and popped Clint into his mouth. He had only the first few inches when Clint gripped his hair a little harder and _pushed_. 

“Tap out if you don’t want me riding your face,” the smug voice floated down.

Tony flipped Clint the bird under the table, grabbing at Clint’s thighs as the cock brushed past his tongue and began to press even deeper. Tony gagged a little, his eyes watering, but he was proud of how good he was at this. Maybe Thor could pick up his magic hammer and Clint could thread a needle with an arrow, but Tony had spent years perfecting his ability to deepthroat. 

Clint was chanting something along the lines of _Fuck fuck fucking fuck_ while he yanked at ears and hair, his hips rising up off his chair. He wasn’t just riding Tony’s face: he was savaging his mouth hard enough that Tony was having a hard time breathing, his nose slammed repeatedly into Clint’s pubic bone, his throat spasming around Clint’s cock. But like hell was Tony going to tap out. He could suck _Steve’s_ monster. He could suck _Thor_. He wasn’t going to give up with a mere mortal like Clint.

“Fuck, Stark,” Clint said, his chair sliding back. He tugged Tony to follow along with him. Tony’s knees ached a little with shuffling along on the carpet, but he managed, and the grumbling noises deep in Tony's throat made Clint whine. “Fuck, I’m going to come down your throat before I even get a chance to fuck our winner.”

Tony glanced up at him, mouth still full of cock, curious. Had he missed Steve winning the last round? Clint shook his head and demanded, “Thor deal me in. I’m doing this hand blind. I’m… a little busy.”

“He needs to breathe, Clint,” Steve said with concern, like Tony wasn’t perfectly capable of telling Barton to shove his cock somewhere else if he didn’t like what the archer was doing. Just in case Clint needed a reminder of that, Tony sucked in a breath through his nose and fought Clint’s hands enough to push his face _all_ the way forward, his chin pressing up against Clint’s balls and his lips smashed hard around the base of Clint’s cock. Then he started to swallow again and again, making his throat constrict around Clint in tight ripples.

Clint’s thighs trembled, and his hands gentled from Tony’s head down to his neck, petting at Tony’s skin while Clint chanted, “Oh god, fuck, yeah,” in a nasal midwestern twang that hinted he right on the edge.

That was the moment when Tony pulled away, leaving Clint yelping, “What? No way!”

Tony’s throat was raw and battered and he was breathing hard, but he grinned savagely. “You have a hand left to play.”

Clint stared down at him like he was out of his mind, picked up his cards, and threw them down on the table. “Fold!”

There was a long pause and Tony could imagine Thor considering the benefits of finishing the last hand versus getting Steve on his knees. “I too fold. Steve, I believe you win.”

There was an annoyed huff from Steve that Tony could hear even under the table. “You guys cheat.” But his chair pushed back and Tony reached up to get a hand from Clint so he could get to his feet. He wanted to watch. There was a very real pleasure to watching Steve strip down. Steve had those slender hips that barely held his underwear up, but he always took forever getting his briefs down from his hips to his thighs, like he wasn’t eager to get fucked. Like there wasn’t an enormous bulge where his erection stretched the fabric.

“You’re not going to _welch_ , are you, Steve?” Clint teased. Steve grinned, barely subduing a laugh, and shoved his underwear off his eager cock, then stepped out of them, leaving himself bare. Clint whooped quietly. “Are we taking turns or fucking him all at once?” he asked the group earnestly. “Because if we’re taking turns, I go first!”

Steve looked between them. “Maybe you can get me warmed up?” he suggested to Clint. “I was kind of hoping for…” His words trailed off and his ears were all red. That fair, Irish complexion showed everything.

Thor gestured Steve closer and tugged him down to sit on Thor’s thigh like Steve was tiny and not two-hundred-some pounds of muscle. He ran his fingers up Steve’s back and down his chest. “I like hearing you express to us what you like,” he reminded Steve in his resonant baritone. Thor had a way of talking during sex like he was addressing the Royal Court of Asgard and from the way Cap was breathing, that did things to Steve’s libido. Tony was only a little jealous. “It would please me to hear you express: how is it that you would like to service us?”

Letting out a breath, Steve was slowly unbuttoning Thor’s shirt. “You and Tony. At the same time.”

Tony perked up. “Really?” he asked, touching himself a little at the thought. They didn't do that very often. Steve healed fast, but he was tight. And Thor was _thick_. It was going to be a demanding stretch.

“I would be very pleased,” Thor agreed. He had a hand on Steve’s face now, stroking his jaw and touching his lips. Tony wanted to take pictures. He wanted to film this so he could rub off to it the next time he left New York on SI business. “What else?”

Steve shook his head like he wasn’t sure or didn’t want to say, but Thor kept touching his face and chest and finally Steve added, “Could you… pretend you’re taking pictures?” Was the guy psychic? Or did he just know Tony that well? Steve sounded deeply embarrassed, like he thought they would make fun of him for being a little kinky. As though a little healthy kink wasn’t at the center of their ‘male bonding’ nights.

Clint had his phone out. “You want it not to be pretend, you say the word,” Clint assured eagerly. “I’m all over that.”

Steve twisted to look at him and smiled. “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind. Now… um…” He looked back at Thor. “I need to get down if Clint’s going to fuck me.”

“Don’t see why,” Tony said, hard in his underwear, down to only a t-shirt and briefs. His hair was a mess, his mouth swollen, and his voice was _throaty_ from the sword-swallowing with Barton. He knew that he already looked and sounded ravaged, and he liked the way it made the others look at him like they were considering how to get _his_ ass into play as well. “Spanking position.”

Thor’s big hands supported Steve's body as Steve changed positions, sliding off Thor’s lap to be stretched across both the Asgardian’s knees. Thor stroked the back of Steve’s neck and slowly traced down the bumps of his spine, sweeping down the warm skin toward his bare ass. “You must recall, it will not be _comfortable_ , taking myself and the man of iron,” he warned Steve, but he also sounded pleased. “It will be a feat. One of courage and resilience.”

Steve hung onto Thor’s leg. “Thank you.” Tony could hear the aching sincerity in Steve’s voice and hung back just a little, afraid to sully the moment.

Then Clint strode up, smacked Steve hard across the ass and asked, “How we going to do this?” His erection had barely faded, even if it was no longer spit-shiny.

Tony fished out his phone, happy to play. “Let’s watch you play with his hole. Capsicle won, right? He deserves a little reward.”

“Three cocks in his ass,” Clint agreed, spreading Steve’s ass cheeks, examining the lay of the land before smacking them together and reaching for the lube. “Steve, that the reward you want?”

“Yes.” Steve sounded like he was dying to be fucked. Like they were torturing him by _not_ riding him hard yet.

Clint drizzled cool lube over Steve's hole and began to work his thumb up and down the crease with barely there touches, slowly teasing lubricant around Steve’s hole. Steve arched his back, hips spread wide, eager for it. “Say it for Tony’s camera,” Clint insisted, bending to puff a breath of air over Steve’s hole. “I want it on record.” Steve shivered under him, growing frenzied. Clint rubbed his thumb against the puckered flesh and whispered, “Let me hear you say, _I want all of you to fuck me with your big cocks_.”

Thor chuckled, shaking Steve a little, but he touched Steve’s hair like Steve was something precious and Steve looked at Tony. There was uncertainty and longing in his face. Tony covered the camera lens and insisted, “We’re rolling.” One of these days, they were going to record this for real, get Jarvis to help, but he knew Steve would never let them touch him again if they broke his trust here.

Swallowing, Steve managed, “I want you to fuck me. All three of you. To fuck my ass. Please.”

“ _That_ is my new ringtone,” Tony teased. Hell, he didn’t want to have to wait for his turn. He was hard as hell just listening to that. He stopped _”filming”_ to finish undressing, forcing himself not to be hide the arc reactor; everyone here had seen it before anyway. He looked up as Steve squeaked. From the movement of Clint’s arm, he’d started opening Steve up in earnest. Steve’s lips were a little open, breathing hard as any other mortal in bed, and he was gripping Thor’s leg almost frantically. He looked slutty and beautiful.

“Tell us more, Steven,” Thor urged. “How may we please you?”

Steve swallowed convulsively and Tony wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, reminding himself that he was about to double-stuff Captain America, so he had better hold on for a fucking minute. “I want you to take control,” Steve whispered hoarsely. “And to make me like it.”

“We are in control, Steve,” Tony assured, grinning. It was a lie, of course. Steve was calling the shots here, but it was a pretty illusion. “We are going to use you like a sex doll. We’re going to stretch you wide, fill you with our cocks, and leave your cock waving in the wind, untouched. We’re going to make you admit that you want to be our fuckdoll and we’re going to film it. We’re going to take pictures of you stuffed full of cock and whimpering for more.”

Steve made a wounded noise and Tony smiled as he realized that Steve wasn't just squirming, but actively _rutting_ against Thor’s thigh, humping the Argadian prince like a dog, desperate. From a finger in the ass and Tony’s dirty mouth. Steve Rogers was a fucking treasure.

“Get a picture of this,” Clint suggested and Tony brought his phone around to see Clint had gone from a thumb to _three fingers_ , and they were in past the last knuckle. When had that happened? Steve was fucking himself hard on Clint’s fingers, probably hurting himself a little, but the guy was a bit of a pain slut in bed. 

“Fuck,” Tony breathed in admiration and covered the lens again, but made the flash go off. Steve whimpered so Tony did it again. An exhibitionist, their boy. 

Pulling his fingers out, Clint lubed himself up and suggested, “Tony, I want a picture of Steve’s face when I shove my cock into him. But let’s make him beg for it.”

Steve whispered, “Oh my god.” (From Steve, that was serious stuff.) As Tony moved, Cap ducked his face until Thor put a hand under his chin, ‘making’ him look at the camera.

“Say it,” Thor demanded, squeezing Steve’s jaw while Steve stared glassy-eyed at the camera.

Tony flashed the camera and Steve whispered, “I want you to fuck me, Clint.” Another flash, another squeeze of Thor’s fingers. “Please fuck me. Please, Clint.” Then his body shuddered and his face went tight as Clint’s hips pressed forward. No, Clint wasn’t built like Thor, but he would be enough of a stretch that Steve was going to feel it at the pace Clint was going. Tony kept pretending to take video, to take pictures, goading as Clint filled Steve and then began to pump his hips, driving into him in short, sharp thrusts.

“To the victor go the spoils,” Tony said cheerfully, resisting the urge to feed his erection into Steve’s mouth. Steve had a sweet mouth and could keep his teeth out of the way even when he was being fucked raw, but Tony wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold on long enough to do his part of the evening’s gangbang if he started letting Steve suck him.

“Please,” Steve was whispering. “Clint, I want you to fuck me.” Like Clint wasn’t spreading Steve’s legs wide like a wishbone and driving into him so hard that he might have gone sprawling off Thor’s lap if Thor wasn’t hanging onto Steve's body, keeping him safe. Tony wanted to go over there and play with Clint’s strong chest and his nipples. Clint had nice nipples and Tony had never had a chance to bite them.

He could see Steve’s cock dangling next to Thor’s thigh, bumping into Thor’s leg on every thrust. Steve’s heavy balls bounced as well, untouched and needy. Forget teasing Steve with the camera; Tony was seriously considering how he could suck them into his mouth. 

Steve was still begging Clint, and when Clint grunted, eyes rolling up, losing his rhythm, Steve made a disappointed little noise, hips thrusting back like he could make the fucking last longer by sheer will.

Clint was panting hard, and he set Steve’s legs down so he could lean forward over the guy. “You’re going to need more if you’re going to take both of these jokers,” he wheezed. “So here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to pull out. And you’re going to go kneel up on that couch with your face in the cushions. And then you’re going to fist yourself.” Tony took half a step forward as Steve went tense, but Steve was a big boy and Clint… wasn’t wrong about how much preparation he’d need. “Take your time, and use all the lube, but you’re going to get all four fingers _and_ your thumb in before you get your treat.”

“Clint…” Steve breathed.

“Do it,” Clint insisted. “Or we jerk ourselves off and leave you to handle this-” He ran his fingers across Steve’s erection. “-by yourself.”

Tony stared, heart beating a little too hard as he waited for Steve to say _Red_. Clint was pushing. It wasn’t Clint’s job to push. That was Tony’s job. Clint didn’t know how to do it right. He’d shove Steve right out of their little arrangement and-

“Yes,” Steve agreed, though he looked uncertain. 

Clint helped him up, off Thor’s lap, into a standing position. Only then did Clint pull out. He gave Steve’s ass a hard slap, then kissed his shoulder. “You want more pictures?” Steve hesitated and Clint leaned into him. “You want to demand I don’t take any?” Steve couldn’t have gone any more pink than he already was, but he looked shy, maybe even a little ashamed of himself. Tony wanted to smack the hell out of whoever made Steve feel like he wasn’t allowed to _want_ things just because he wanted them. “I can do that,” Clint assured. “Usual safeword if you really do want me to cut it out.”

Then Clint gave Steve a showy, useless shove and said, “Get on your knees and spread those cheeks. I’m going to take a picture of your puffy, well-fucked hole!”

Steve smiled like Clint gave him a gift, but ducked his head, even as he hurried toward the couch. “No.”

“I didn’t hear the magic word,” Tony pointed out. No stoplight code, no safeword, Clint was going to keep pushing. Tony had some big ideas for what he was going to do with Steve the next time he got the man alone. 

“You heard me, slut,” Clint persisted. “I want to record every minute of this. Now, spread them. Can anyone help Cap out? He’s going to need a lot of lube and maybe some help.”

Steve whimpered, on his knees on the couch with his hands curled around his inner thighs, spreading them. “Clint, don’t…”

“Clint, do,” Clint teased, clearly amused by this latest kink in Cap’s frankly impressive gallery of kinks. Steve was definitely one of those guys whose still waters ran deep. While Thor popped open the lube so they could get Steve to the point where he could take a fist, Clint began to press his thumb into the already well-fucked hole. Steve’s ass took the thumb without resistance and he whimpered slightly.

Tony realized he’d just been standing, watching, and fantasizing for awhile, so he picked up the phone to get back to pretending to record this. Not like Steve wasn’t already worked up, his ass quivering and his cock hard, but Tony wanted to see how far they could push before he cracked. “One minute, Barton. I don’t have the shot. I need to record this for posterity.” He hummed a moment, like he was trying to get it just right, then chuckled. “Okay, now you can get back to wrecking his ass.” Yes, that was Steve making the little punched noise. Kinky bastard.

Clint pulled out his thumb, then he and Thor collaborated for a moment in holding Steve open wide and filling him full of lube straight from the bottle. Steve’s thighs went rigid, probably from the cold, but he didn’t try to pull away. “Together?” Clint asked Thor.

“Let us do so,” Thor agreed. Tony bit his lip and touched himself watching as Thor and Clint each worked a finger into Cap’s lubricated ass, each working it in deep and pulling. 

“This is going on Instagram,” Tony murmured. “You okay there, Cap?”

Steve sounded a little choked, but he managed, “Just fine. I… could do this all day.”

“Good to know,” Clint said and worked another finger in. “I wouldn’t chance with most guys, but I know what you can take.” He smacked Steve low on the asscheek with his free hand. “Thor?”

Thor began to work another finger in as well. Clearly, Steve was having a harder time taking it now, his legs spread as far as they would go. Tension came and went along his back in ripples as Steve tried to relax enough to take four fingers. “Hey, Steve,” he said quietly and waited a moment until he thought Steve was focusing. “You look like a slut.”

There was a moment of blank staring, and then Steve started to laugh, his whole body shaking with it. “ _Thanks_ , Tony.” But the laughter had done the job and Thor’s second finger was inside him as well. Four fingers would be plenty preparation if it was just Thor fucking him, but if Steve was really going to take them both, more was a good idea. Clint _had_ said Steve should fist himself.

But Clint pulled his fingers out and patted Thor on the shoulder. “All you, my man.”

Thor nodded. “With pleasure.” He hugged Clint one-armed before the archer backed up. Then he pulled both his fingers out and began to work all _five_ of his fingers into Steve’s body. Steve began to groan. No doubt it was a hell of a strain, taking so much. It wasn’t even like Thor had small hands. Thor was big all over. But he was also very aware of his strength and had good control over it. They all knew Thor didn’t hurt anyone he didn’t want to hurt. “Breathe out,” Thor demanded. And then, “Breathe out, whore.” 

Steve breathed out and Thor’s fingers slipped in a little further. Tony moved to get a better look. Most of the fingers were in to the second knuckle and his thumb was about halfway down. Not the thickest part of the stretch, but getting there. Tony set down the phone to pat Steve’s shoulder. He leaned in to whisper insistently, “Steve, you can still call red.” 

“To hell with that.” Steve’s voice was strained, but he looked obstinate.

Tony laughed. “It wasn’t a dare.”

“Go on,” Steve urged, twisting his head to look back toward Thor. “All the way.”

“As you please,” Thor agreed. “Breathe out.” 

Tony didn’t see Thor’s hand press the rest of the way in, but he saw Steve’s face. Steve’s expression contorted in pain for a moment and Tony’s fist balled up, commands for the tower’s security on his tongue. Then Steve moaned and he flopped forward. “Oh my god,” he whimpered. “Oh my god…”

“Yes,” Thor agreed smugly. Tony could have smacked him.

“That,” Clint said, gesturing with a bottle of water, “is the fucking sexiest thing I have ever seen.”

Steve was still alternating between rigid spasms and going utterly boneless, moaning softly in some combination of pain and ecstasy. Tony shivered, staring at Steve: at the helpless line of his neck, at the contortion of his face, at his wrecked hole stretched around Thor’s wrist. He should say something else snarky about posting the footage, but he was _staring_ and couldn't look away.

Then Steve groaned louder, tears leaking out of his eyes. Thor was pulling his hand back out. Tony only realized he was holding his breath when Clint bumped him and whispered, "Breathe."

Face pressed into the cushions, Steve was definitely crying. It was disturbing. Steve got hurt a lot. Crying wasn't something Tony had ever seen him do. Thor, erect and big enough to make even Steve look slight, sat by the side of the couch while Tony stared, hands twitching. "Perhaps that is enough for today," he heard Thor murmur. "You have done very well. Another day, we might-"

"He can fuck me," Tony suggested. "You both-" Nope, that was a terrible idea. "One in my mouth..."

Steve's face turned toward him. "Don't welch, Tony." He sounded awful, and his face was red, but his eyes were clear. "Give a guy a second. Next time, I'll prep ahead of time. That's what plugs are for."

Thor _picked Steve up_ , holding him in a modified bridal carry. There was a yelp of indignation, then Steve relaxed. "Okay. This works. You going to put me down?"

Thor got down on the ground next to the couch, leaning back against it and stretching out his legs, and set Steve down in his lap, his cock sticking up obscenely between Steve's legs, Steve's cock pressed up against Thor's abs. "Are you in pain?"

Steve braced his hands against Thor's chest. "I'm ready. Give me a hand?" 

Together, Steve and Thor adjusted their positions. They were a well-matched pair: buff and blond and hung, and with exact control of their movements. Thor held his cock in place while Steve lowered himself down, taking Thor with ease. Steve swallowed him right up and Tony, realizing it was _finally_ his turn, hurried to get into place behind him, resting his hands on Steve's back. The angle was awkward, but this wasn't his first rodeo. A little maneuvering around and his cock could begin to nudge against the place where Thor stretched Steve. It was a _tight_ fit to say the least, but he slowly began to make progress. Steve's hole squeezed his cockhead hard as he pushed, but the more he pushed, the easier it go, until Tony was slid right, as far as the angle allowed.

"Steve?" Clint was kneeling on the couch, watching them. "You good?"

"Green," Steve murmured, his voice choked, but then it began to clear. "I'm green. Yikes. That's a stretch. You two better do the moving. I'm kind of pinned here."

"One of these days," Tony groaned, fighting not to come in two seconds, "we really are going to record this. You'd be the best porn star in the world."

" _Move_ , Tony," Steve insisted, sounding grumpy if amused.

So Tony moved. He had limited mobility in Thor's lap with another cock wedged next to his own in Steve's ass, but even small movements made them all grunt and groan. His cock was being squeezed hard with each little shift and from the way Thor was panting, he felt the same way. "You are glorious," Thor murmured. "A delight."

"Hot as hell," Tony agreed, shoving his hips forward a few inches. "You want us to fill you up? "

"Not yet," Steve groaned, like he couldn't bear the idea of not being stretched impossibly full of cock. Tony bit his cheek, demanding his body hold on a little longer. He could give Steve a good fucking if that was what Steve needed.

"I thought you were our... fucktoy," Thor pointed out. "You take our seed when we say. And I am ready to fill you until it runs down your legs in rivulets."

Steve groaned, head falling back. "Well... when you put it like that."

Thank god. Tony breathed out and thrust. It hurt a little and it felt amazing. Another thrust. Another. He got up to about a dozen thrusts and he was coming hard, eyes rolling back, lids fluttering shut, body spasming with completion. Distantly, he could hear Thor make noises like a bull in heat and there was a lot of shifting around.

He slid out of Steve slowly, his cock too sensitive to stay wedged in like that. Clint was gesturing at him with two fingers like he was saying 'stand up.' As soon as Tony stood, Thor was pushing Steve onto his back between Thor's legs, his cock still in Steve's ass while he gripping Steve's cock in both hands, pumping him dramatically. "You triumphed," Thor told Steve with pride. "You won the poker, and you have taken all of our cocks. You are a true champion at cockslutting."

Tony and Clint were still cracking up against each other's shoulders when Steve came apart.

**Author's Note:**

> Note regarding consensual non-consent: At Steve's request, they're pretending to take dirty pictures/videos. Steve enjoys saying "no, don't," but he's only agreed to everyone pretending. There are safe words. Admittedly, it's all on the fly, but Steve knows what he's doing. If this sounds triggering to you, don't read the story.


End file.
